


Strong Enough To Surrender

by etoile_etiolee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Sam, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe, Knotting, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Dean, Pregnant Dean, graphic birth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-04 00:20:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2902505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etoile_etiolee/pseuds/etoile_etiolee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU of an a/b/o dynamics variety. Dean is an omega. Since puberty, John has insisted that he takes suppressants because he does not believe Dean can be respected amongst hunters if they learn about his status. Stuck between an alpha father and an alpha brother, Dean struggles to find his place in the world. That is, until John forces him to take some life-changing decisions when he throws him out. Joining Sam at Stanford, Dean comes to term with his own needs and identity, while Sam waits patiently for his brother to realize that they are mate. What happens after... well, a lot, but Sam and Dean are together. Dean can deal with anything, even an unexpected pregnancy, with his brother by his side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strong Enough To Surrender

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU in which John Winchester is not nice. At all.
> 
> A/N: A couple of years back, I wrote a fic called Fathers. The similarity between the two is something I'm aware of, as I used some elements from Fathers to get started on this new story, but they are two different stories, settled in different universes.
> 
> Beta work by firesign10
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own SPN or its characters. I make no profits. The only thing I own is the intellectual property of this story. Please ask before sharing. Thanks!

PART I

It happens two weeks before Sam had planned to leave for Stanford. John still doesn’t know, because both brothers are very well aware of the reaction it will most likely trigger. Since Sam popped his knot a few days before his fifteenth birthday, both alphas are more often than not at each other’s throat, sometimes literally. Sam can tell Dean is so tired of it all. If there was the slightest chance that Sam could convince Dean to leave with him, he would do it, but he knows his brother is too loyal to John.

So, they get drunk. A motel room, their father away on a hunt, Dean in a bad mood because he couldn’t tag along for said hunt, Sam in a bad mood because he’s done with John’s bullshit and the way he treats Dean.

There is vodka and beer involved. They both laugh a lot, end up sprawled on one of the beds staring at the ceiling like it’s a starry sky. Sam’s laughter dies slowly in his throat. He feels Dean’s presence so close to him, wishes he could smell him, just once. 

“I’ll miss you,” he drawls out.

“Gonna miss you too,” Dean replies.

“Dean…”

“What?”

“You know I’m not going away because of you, right?”

Dean shrugs. “You gotta do what you gotta do, Sam. If college is what you want, I’m not taking it personal.”

“Dad and me, we’re going to end up killing each other anyway,” Sam mutters.

Dean sighs and brushes a hand over his face. “I know.”

“I hate what it does to you.”

“Sam, come on.”

“It’s true!” Sam gives Dean a soft shoulder bump. “I mean, I know that there is nothing I can say to change your opinion, but let’s be honest here for a second. You can’t take it anymore, me and Dad fighting all the time. It goes against your nature.”

Sam must be drunker than he thought, because he would have never brought the issue of Dean’s status on the table, not tonight when all he wants is to feel close to his brother.

It doesn’t surprise him when Dean sits up abruptly and tells him he can go fuck himself.

“Dean-”

“You always have to rub it in, aren’t you, Sam? With your fucking alpha condescension, like I'm some fragile little thing that needs to be spared. Don’t you think Dad gives me enough bullshit as it is?”

Sam sits up too. He was ready to apologize, but of course, Dean had to bring John into this and it only feeds his anger.

“Then why do you do it? Why the hell do you do it? Those suppressants, they’re not supposed to be taken on long term. You’ve been on them since you were sixteen, damn it, and you have no idea what they could be doing to you.”

“I’m fine, Sam!” Dean replies forcefully, his hands closed into fists. “Dad doesn’t do this to endanger me, he does this to protect me.”

“Because he wants the perfect soldier, Dean. There is nothing wrong with being an omega, you shouldn’t be ashamed. Despite what some fucking knot head would have you believe, and god knows there are plenty of those in our line of work, omegas are as worthy as betas and alphas - it’s so damn wrong to-“

“So damn wrong to what? To help me survive in this world, because I need to be respected and considered? I’m a hunter, Sam, do you really think another hunter would even let me sit at his table if I smelled like an omega?”

“And you just go with it? People thought like that fifty years ago, Dean! Things have changed. I mean, I’ll admit that our way of living isn’t my favorite thing in the world, but-“

“You hate it,” Dean says with something like despair in his voice. Despair, but anger too. “You can’t wait to get away from it.”

“From it but not from _you_ , and what I meant to say is that it’s okay for you to hunt despite being an omega. It doesn’t change what a person is capable of, and I just wish… Dean. I wish you would understand that.”

Dean stands up, turning his back to Sam. Whatever moment they had while their tongues were loose from the alcohol, it’s over. Dean is closing himself off to Sam, like he does most of the time when they have this kind of conversation. The suppressants he takes are powerful, but not enough to completely change his true nature. With an alpha brother and father, it’s only normal that Dean tends to give his loyalty to their father, based on his seniority. Considering the wills of two different alphas would be confusing and frustrating for him. Sam is still a teenager, and even if he had already reached his alpha peak, he wouldn’t want Dean to feel like he should listen to him solely because of their status. What he really wishes is for his brother to stop being ashamed, to feel worthy, because he is -he’s his own person. Omegas males aren’t that common, it’s true, but they deserve the same respect as any other classes. The hunter’s world is one rough patch of old alphas that has pretty much forgotten that society has evolved over the years.

“I’m gonna miss you, Dean,” Sam repeats lamely. 

“You should go to sleep,” Dean scoffs, heading toward the bathroom. “You’re drunk.”

::: :::

Two weeks later, Sam leaves the house they’re squatting in in the middle of the night while Dean holds John back before they start hitting each other.

Dean calls Sam a couple of hours later. Sam is already sitting in the bus, trying to calm himself down, split between rejoicing that he made it, he'd been able to leave the hunting life behind, and his anger at John, because it’s his fault that Dean had to be left behind.

“Fuck, Sammy,” Dean tells him as soon as he answers. “Never seen Dad so mad before.”

“You okay? Where’s Dad?”

“M’fine. Dad is out, probably getting drunk in a bar somewhere. What about you?”

“I’m on a bus. We’re leaving in a few minutes.”

There is a pause at the end of the line. “Good,” Dean finally says. “You call me when you get there to tell me what you’re up to, okay?”

“Yeah.”

Sam feels ridiculously close to tears. He already misses Dean.

“Alright. Take care of yourself, Sammy.”

“You too, Dean.”

It sounds like they’re never going to see each other again. Sam doubts himself anew. He knows he couldn’t have stayed longer, but the alpha in him insists that he should have taken Dean with him. 

Well, nothing is ever perfect, right?

::: :::

It’s fourteen months before they see each other again. Sam settles in his new life with enough ease that he knows he’s made the right decision. He rents a room near the campus, right over the bookstore where he works to make a little extra money. He makes friends, he studies. There is the sensation that he's missing a part of himself that won’t go away, a void that only Dean could fill, but he tries not to let it hold him back. They call each other at least twice a week. Dean asks questions about Sam’s life, about his classes, about girls, of course, but remains vague on his own whereabouts. He and John are hunting together: same old, same old, he keeps telling Sam. 

Sam can feel in everything Dean doesn’t say that his brother misses him as much as he does but there is no ideal solution. Dean won’t leave John, Sam won’t go back, can’t.

Then, at the beginning of November, two months after Sam has begun his second school year, Dean comes back into his life in the most unexpected way.

It’s been a long day. Sam has had class from eight to four, then has done his shift at the bookstore until closing hours. It’s ten pm and Sam's drinking a beer, sitting at his tiny kitchen table, trying to read a psychology study on child development, but unable to make sense of it, as tired as he is.

The knock at his door makes him jump. He stretches while he gets up, expecting Mike or Zach, maybe even Jessica, that beautiful alpha girl that shares most of his classes.

He doesn’t expect Dean. Doesn’t expect to see his brother hanging onto the door frame, slightly bent over himself, his upper lip swollen and blue, a bruise blossoming on his right cheek.

Yet there's Dean, looking tired and lost, no sign of his usual cocky attitude and bravado. He does try for a smile, but fails spectacularly.

“Dean? What the hell happened to you?” Sam asks, shocked.

“Well, damn, it’s nice to see you too, Sammy,” Dean rasps.

“Let me…” Sam slides an arm around Dean’s waist and helps him inside. Dean drops on the first chair crossing his path, wincing and folding his arms over his stomach protectively.

“Is Dad okay? Was it a hunt? Talk to me, Dean,” Sam pleads, crouching in front of him. “Do you need a doctor?”

“Dad’s okay, I’m okay, stop fussing and get me a beer,” Dean says in an annoyed voice.

Sam knows Dean won’t talk until he’s ready, so he obeys, grabbing an icepack in from the freezer at the same time as the beer and wrapping it in a clean rag.

“There,” he says as he opens Dean’s beer for him. “And there.” He hands him the ice pack before sitting in front of him.

Dean takes a long mouthful of beer, looking around. “So, this is where you live, college boy? Not bad.” 

He presses the ice pack to the right side of his face.

“Who did this to you? Was it while hustling pool? Where’s Dad?”

“Dad is in Utah, looking at what might be a ghoul wreaking havoc. He’s fine. He’s so fucking fine, Sam,” Dean growls.

Something in Dean’s eye shine, and suddenly, Sam understands. His breath catches in his throat. “Dad did this to you,” he murmurs.

“Well,” Dean shrugs as if there is nothing to be worried about. “It’ll teach me.”

“Teach you what? Why did he do this?”

Dean takes another long gulp of beer. “ ’Cause I thought he wouldn’t be back for a few hours and I had a guy in our motel room.”

“I don’t-“

“I like guys, okay?” Dean’s voice is rising, broken and raw. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know because I know you must’ve seen me at least a couple of times. Girls are fine as long as it’s for bragging in front of Dad but I prefer guys. I’m gay, Sam.” 

Sam takes a deep breath. Of course, he knew. It’s just something Dean had been so adamant not to talk about, because it relates to his omega status. Most omega men are gay, it’s the way their biology works. 

“Yeah, I know, and I don’t care,” Sam says cautiously. “And that doesn't mean Dad had the right to do this to you.”

His inner alpha wants to growl and hit something, wants to hold Dean tight, to promise him he’ll always be there to take care of him. Sam keeps it under control. Dean’s had enough bullshit from an alpha as it is. 

“Well, he did it anyway,” Dean smiles without a hint of joy. “He did, Sam. And I had to get out of there because he would’ve killed me and… I don’t know, I kind of drove without knowing where I was going, and then I ended up here.”

“I’m glad you did, Dean. Are you sure you don’t need a hospital?”

Sam stretches his hand to let it rest on Dean’s arm. His brother’s lower lip starts shaking. He lowers his head, drops the icepack on the table. “Fuck. I was on all fours moaning like a whore, getting my ass pounded. That’s how he found us. Luckily for the other guy, Dad was so damn mad at me he didn’t even cast him a look.”

“He’s a bastard,” Sam states coldly

“Sam it’s…” Dean shakes his head. “You know Dad. He has a temper and-“

“Are you defending him? Damn it, Dean, have you looked in the mirror? You’re lucky he didn’t do any more damage!”

“Whatever,” Dean mumbles. “I’m tired, and I need a shower. Can I crash on your couch for tonight?”

“Sure,” Sam tries to keep a detached voice.

He has no intention of letting Dean go. 

He waits until the shower is running and dials his father’s cell phone number. He hasn’t talked to the man since that night John told him if he walked out, he better not come back. 

Sam hasn’t missed him. Now, the slow, burning, anger that was always roiling in the pit of his stomach is back. Just thinking about Dean’s humiliation when he told him what John had caught him doing is feeding the fire, and Sam feels close to losing control.

John answers on the third ring, voice rough and low, a sure sign that he’s plastered. For some reason, it only makes Sam angrier.

“It’s Sam, Dad,” he says with a calm he’s far from feeling.

“Sam. Wow,” John says sarcastically. “Let me guess… You climb down your high horse now and want back in?”

“If you ever hurt him again, I’ll kill you, do you understand?” 

There is a long silence at the end of the line, then John hangs up. 

_Good_ , Sam thinks. It’s a start.

::: :::

Dean doesn’t want to stay, at first. He tells Sam he can damn well hunt on his own, and Sam has to make him understand that he doesn’t doubt that. They both end up frustrated and giving each other the silent treatment. Sam doesn’t go to his Friday classes. He’s too scared of finding Dean gone if he leaves.

They come to an arrangement later, when Sam orders pizza –with all of Dean’s favorite toppings- and, for once, tries to be the reasonable one.

“I’m not asking you to stop hunting. I’m offering a place for you to stay in between hunts. We’re brothers, Dean. All we have is each other.”

Dean frowns. He’s not ready to talk about John, apparently. Sam lets it go.

“Plus, hunting alone is dangerous even for the best hunter out there. What if… I could go with you sometimes. Weekends, or on Christmas and Spring break and-“

“Sam, you have a job, you have college. You can’t just…”

“Okay, whatever. You want to go out there alone, I can’t stop you. All I’m asking is for you to get your ass back here in between.”

Dean bites his bottom lips and looks around. “You barely have enough space for yourself.”

“Seriously? We grew up in motel rooms sharing the same bed.”

Dean half-smiles. Sam counts it as a victory. 

“Touché.”

“I want you here, man. Things haven’t been the same without seeing your ugly face every day.”

“You love my face,” Dean replies. “Seriously, though. I want… I’m gonna pay for the rent and food and stuff. I’ll do my part.”

Sam has to refrains himself for lifting a victory fist in the air. He nods slowly. “You better. I’m no Mother Theresa.”

“Fuck you,” Dean gives him a full-on smile then, before biting in his pizza slice like he wants not just eat it, but destroy it as well.

Which, Sam knows, means “thank you.” He starts eating as well, incredibly relieved.

::: :::

Somehow, they make it work. Dean finds a garage downtown Palo Alto that can use him from time to time, when it’s really busy or one of the mechanics calls in sick. It’s two weeks before he finds a hunt, something that looks like an easy salt and burn, only two states away. Sam is worried about letting him go, but he knows he has no choice. Dean might seem like he’s doing well, but he’s trying to learn to live without John, to be his own man. It’s not easy. The worst thing would be to go full alpha on him, just like their father did.

Sam makes him promise to keep in touch. Dean calls him a big wuss, but he promises. He comes back five days later with a long cut over his eyebrow and a few bruises, but alive and there, dropping on the couch and sighing, murmuring that it’s good to be home.

Sam smiles and order Chinese takeout to celebrate. They eat and talk. Dean seems in a good mood, like he’s proven something to himself. Sam is in a good mood because Dean is. Sometimes it’s as simple as that.

It becomes a pattern from then on. Dean finds hunts and spends time in Palo Alto in between, works at the garage, does his share of house chores –more or less. Sam works and studies. He introduces his brother to his friends. Dean and Jessica get along like old friends, probably because she’s an alpha, but Sam is too wise to point that out. Alpha women are as rare as omega men. Somehow, it fits. It makes Sam so damn happy to have Dean with him, the hole he’s always felt when away from his brother is closed and filled. Seeing Dean sharing a beer with Zach, Jess, and Mike, or playing pool with Rebecca fulfills him in a way he can barely understand. He doesn’t miss his father, not once. On the contrary, each time he thinks about John, the anger comes back. At least, Dean seems better as time passes, not as insecure or on the defensive, not so lost without the alpha who raised him. He has a couple of one-night stands, both time with boys –doesn’t try to hide it or anything. The second man, Tommy, is working at the same garage. Sam sees him eating cereal at the kitchen table when he wakes up one morning and even though he tries to keep it cool, a surge of possessiveness runs through his veins. He tries to brush it off as instinct, nothing more. Still, he can’t deny that he barely feels any sexual needs these days. Sam doesn’t like to knot with some hookup that he’s just met, and casual sex with another alpha, man or woman, is something that’s just not worth the effort. 

It’s impossible to know if his lack of sexual desire is related to Dean in any way, because Dean is still on suppressants. They’ve already had a fight about it since Dean moved in, and even though Sam is worried as hell regarding Dean’s biology and the side effects of suppressant therapy, he figures he can give him a little more time. Dean is coming to term with so many issues right now, it’s only normal he still hesitates about stopping them after an existence of what was basically brain-washing.

The important thing is that they are together. As for the rest, well… they can always work on it.

::: :::

Six months after Dean’s reappearance in Sam’s life, something happens that shakes both the brothers hard. On a warm April evening, Sam comes back from his study group shortly after nine pm to find the apartment empty. He decides not to wait for Dean and to go to bed, but he can’t sleep, has the feeling that something is wrong. He dresses. picks up his coat, and goes out to find his brother. He knows that if the Impala is still parked down the street, Dean can’t be anywhere else than at the bar a few blocks away, it's their habit to go.

He finds Dean sitting at the counter, an impressive number of empty shot glasses in front of him. When Sam sits next to him, he smiles, all mellow and soft.

“Hey, Sammy,” he slurs.

“Dean, I think you’ve had enough.”

The barman nods to Sam.

“Bobby Singer called,” Dean announces, then he stops smiling. “He, huh… Dad found the thing that killed Mom.”

“What?”

Sam’s breath catches in his throat. He asks for a beer. The barman serves him with a disapproving expression.

“It was a demon, Sammy,” Dean murmurs, head lowered as if he’s speaking to his empty glass. “Dad killed it.”

“Fuck.”

“He didn’t make it. The demon hurt him bad, and it was too late for anyone to do anything.”

Dean asks for another shot. When the barman begins to shake his head, Sam hits the table. “Give him another one, damn it, our Dad just died!”

Sam realizes the enormity of what he’s just said out loud and feels his chest expand with anxiety and shock. Apparently, it has the same effect on Dean who’s chin begins to wobble.

Shit.

“Dean, I’m sorry.”

“Well, he was your father too,” Dean raps. “The… bastard.”

“Wha?”

“Fucking bastard died without even trying to find me, without calling, once!”

Dean downs his shot and wipes his mouth. “He was ashamed o’me. He… he made me think it was to protect me, but he was ashamed of his gay omega of a son. And now he’s dead, and fuck, I wish I could have seen him one more time just to punch him in the face.”

Sam puts his hand on Dean’s shoulders, feeling the tremors wracking his body. “It’s okay to feel angry.”

Dean snorts and swallows a sob that threatens to break free. “Yeah, right… What good will it do now? He’s… they burned his body. Hunter’s funeral. Bobby said he can show us the place.”

For a few minutes, all Sam can do is drink his beer and let his own tears fall. It angers him, that he mourns for a father that he spent most of the recent years hating, but still, it hurts. It hurts so damn much. And if it hurts him that bad, he can’t even imagine what Dean must be feeling now.

“Come on,” he says, dragging Dean up. “We should go home.”

Dean has trouble remaining upright and leans heavily against him while Sam takes out his wallet to pay. The barman shakes his head. “That’s on the house, boys, sorry for your loss.”

Sam regrets not having called a cab because Dean is almost a dead weight he has to drag along the sidewalk. They make their way slowly. All the while, Dean just won’t shut up. “Did everything he ever asked me to, everything, god damn it. And then he finds the thing that killed mom and he didn’t’ven think it was my fight too, t’was what he raised us to do, the bastard. Fucking bastard died on me, Sam!”

Dean stops abruptly and pushes Sam away, bending down on himself, arms wrapped around his stomach. He throws up almost silently on the dirty ground. Sam keeps him up and tries to soothe him, rubbing circles on the small of his back. 

Dean moans, “He hated me.”

“No, it’s not… Don’t say that.”

Dean dry heaves one more time. “And now… he went and got himself killed, Sam, and we don’t have anyone else. S’just you and me.”

Sam helps Dean up. His brother is crying again, and seeing him like this is unbearable. He swallows his tears and grabs him tight, hugging him against his own body, wishing he could take all the hurt and pain away. “Yeah, it’s just you and me now,” he whispers. “And we’ll be okay. I swear to you, Dean, we’ll be fine.”

Dean nods, his head shoved in the crook of Sam’s neck. That’s the exact moment when Sam realizes that his brother isn’t just an omega member of his family that his own alpha nature wants to protect. It’s been hard to come to this conclusion because of Dean’s absence of heats and smell, but right then, Sam knows. Dean is his mate. It’s always been him.

Instead of the panic he thought would rise from the pit of his stomach, Sam feels a wave of calm washing over him, like he’s just found his place in the world. Sibling mating isn’t uncommon, it’s well accepted. You can’t really fight the chemical biology that comes with it, anyway.

“You smell good, Sammy,” Dean mumbles.

“Yeah, yeah, and you’re drunk. Come on, let me take you home,” Sam answers easily. 

The revelation he’s just had is like a precious secret warming his cold, grieving heart. Sam is patient. He can wait for Dean to be ready, to finally get off the drugs and accept who he is. Right now, they have a father to mourn, even if in the end, John rejected the both of them.

Dragging Dean along, Sam thinks about his mother. She’s avenged. He wonders if it changes anything in the whole scheme of things. Losing a mate causes terrible damage. John had never healed. Sam wishes he could’ve known the man he’d been before. Wishes he could have learned to love him despite everything, if only in Mary’s memory. But then, Sam would have to forgive the way John treated Dean all those years, and that's something he just can't do.

::: :::

John’s death hits Dean hard. He barely talks during the following days -as a matter of fact, he barely does anything at all. Sam does his best to be there for him, but his final exams are about to start and he needs to study and be present in class. Their friends show their support, something which Sam is more than glad to accept, but it isn’t in Dean’s nature. He doesn’t want to see anyone; he just stays home all day, watching TV, with this faraway look in his eyes. 

One week passes. Sam comes back from school one afternoon to find Dean asleep on the couch. Empty beer bottles are scattered all over the living room, as well as dirty clothes. The TV is playing an infomercial. 

Sam sighs and starts cleaning. When Dean wakes up, he’ll coax him into taking a shower, maybe try to get him outside for a walk. Now that he knows his brother is his destined mate, Sam’s alpha instincts are basically screaming at him to take care of Dean. It physically hurts Sam to see him like this.

When Sam opens the trashcan to throw out a pile of old pizza crusts, he freezes.

There, right on top of everything, are three bottles of pills. Full. Sam recognizes immediately the suppressants Dean orders from the internet. He stays still for long seconds, trying to make sense of what he’s seeing, like his brain has decided to take a short vacation.

Then he’s in motion, walking back in the living room and crouching near Dean, shaking him awake.

“Wha’?” Dean mumbles, opening one bloodshot eye.

“Your suppressants. What are they doing in the trashcan, Dean?”

Dean grunts and pushes himself up, scratching at his stubble. “Decided to stop taking them,” he mumbles.

“Are you serious?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “No, Sam, I’m making a very lame joke. What’s the matter anyway? You’ve been on my case forever about those pills, and now that I stopped taking them, you’re not happy?”

Sam sighs. “Just tell me why.”

“Always have to talk about things with you, huh?” Dean jokes without a hint of joy. “You were right,” he adds, lowering his head. “I’ve known it for a while but… I don’t know, it was so fucking scary, just thinking about stopping them. And now Dad’s dead, and I realized that ever since he threw me out, I… I don’t know, Sam, I kept taking them for him, I guess.”

“Okay.”

“And he can’t be ashamed of me anymore now that he’s dead,” Dean goes on, biting on his lower lip. “I’m so fucking mad at him, and now I can’t do anything about that ‘cause he died on me. I’m… I’m too tired to be the man he wanted me to be. There is no reason to try anymore.”

“Yeah, okay, I get it, I really do, Dean. But…” Sam pauses, trying to find the best way to say this. “Maybe you should’ve gone to a doctor. Those pills, you’ve been taking them for so long: we have no idea what stopping them suddenly will do to you. There’s a clinic near the University that specializes in-“

Dean huffs impatiently and stands up, walking past Sam. “I’m really not in the mood to have a doctor fuss over my damn omega status, Sam. I’ll be fine.”

Sam stands up and follows his brother in the kitchen.

“There are consequences to suppressant therapy, Dean: hormonal imbalance, Heatstroke Syndrome, or-“

“Sam,” Dean says firmly. “Please, just… Not right now, okay? I’m fine, I swear. I need a shower. Are we done?”

“Apparently we are,” Sam says flatly.

Dean locks himself in the bathroom, leaving Sam standing in the kitchen, wondering what he can do, if anything has to be done. He’s glad Dean has made the decision. He just wonders if it’s the right time for his brother to experience a brutal chemistry change, when he’s already distraught and confused because of John’s death. What other choice does Sam have but to let Dean figure it out by himself, and to make sure he’ll be there for him if things turn sour? Sam knows it can take months for Omegas that have been on suppressant therapy before their natural cycle kicks in and they experience a heat. Months, or weeks. It depends.

And how will Dean react to it? Does he know, on a subconscious level, that Sam and he are mates? Could he read the signs, weakened though they were by the suppressants?

Sam doesn’t have any answers right now. It frustrates him. He should be able to take care of his omega properly, but a lifetime watching their Dad going all alpha on Dean had showed him that he needs to be more subtle. Because if not, he’ll scare Dean away, maybe for good.

::: :::

The first week of May, Sam is busy with finals. He can’t wait for this semester to be over. With the news of John’s death and everything that’s been going on with Dean, he feels tired to the bone, mentally and physically.

One morning, he gets out of his class around eleven. The psychology exam had been tougher than he thought. He took the whole three hours to complete it. The first thing he does afterward is to get out his cell phone and to turn it back on.

He freezes when he sees that he missed three calls, one from Dean, from two hours ago, and two from Jessica Moore.

“Damn it,” Sam curses, as he starts walking toward the exit door, cutting through the flow of students.

He starts by calling Dean back. No luck, he gets the voicemail. His hand shakes as he calls Jess. She answers on the first ring.

“Sam?”

“Jess? What’s wrong? Where’s Dean?”

“Your place. I’m with him, Sam, calm down, it’s okay.”

“You don’t understand, he-“

“He’s in heat.”

Sam stops, blinking under the sun. “What?”

“Found him wandering around on the campus this morning,” Jessica goes on. “He was looking for you, had no idea what was going on. I could smell him even before I saw him, Sam. And I wasn’t the only one.”

“Oh, god.”

“It’s okay, I let out enough pheromones to make the others back off.”

“Jesus. Thank you so much, Jess, I can’t-“

“I took him back to your place, told him what was going on.” Jessica pauses. “Sam. He told me he’d never had a heat before.”

Sam explains as quickly as he can, then adds: “He stopped the suppressants three weeks ago, and I watched out for signs, but I didn’t see or smell anything different. Even this morning.”

“Shit, Sam. He needs you. Well, he needs a knot, and I sure as hell can’t give it to him.”

“I’ll be there in five. How’s he doing?”

“He’s in your room. I tried to explain to him that he should… you know, try to find some sort of relief, but he was so uncomfortable with all this. He said he was going to sleep it off, like that's possible.”

Sam doesn’t even remember walking the rest of the way home. What he does remember, though, is how hard Dean’s smell hits him as he climbs the stairs leading up to their apartment. He’s actually dizzy with it, has to hold onto the rail to keep himself up.

He can smell Jessica’s alpha imprint, something strong and fierce, letting know other alphas to keep their distance. Sam can barely register it, though, because Dean… Dean smells so sweet and inviting, an almost too-rich perfume of fragrances entangled together, fresh bread, a forest after the rain, early morning when the sun is already hot and the ground warm. It’s Sam’s, it’s for him, he can feel it into his bones, the need and the want… There is fear and confusion also, but Sam can take care of that.

He pushes the door open, blinking at Jessica who’s standing a foot away from him, both hands lift in the air in a peaceful gesture.

“It’s okay, Sam, he’s yours, I know.”

Sam tries to shake off the possessiveness he feels; Jessica isn’t the enemy here. All she did was to make sure Dean wouldn’t get harassed by other alphas.

“Thanks,” Sam drops in a voice he doesn’t recognize as his own, low and gravely.

“I always thought you two were mates,” Jessica explains. “Fuck, I can smell it. You lucky bastard.”

“I… I need to go see him.”

Jessica smiles. “I know. Just, if you think he’s having heatstroke or if you need anything, call me, alright?”

“Yeah.”

Sam walks past Jessica and pauses at his bedroom’s door. His hands are shaking, his dick is throbbing hard in the confinement of his jeans. Dean’s smell is so concentrated there it’s hard for him to think about anything but knotting him.

_Do not scare him,_ he admonished himself. 

“Sam?” Dean asks from the other side of the door, his tone whiny and scared.

Sam opens the door. Dean is sitting over the covers of his bed, stripped down to his boxers. He’s covered in sweat, his skin glistening with it. His eyes are dark, pupils blown, his face blotched red. As soon as Sam walks in, Dean is up, literally throwing himself at Sam, pressing his body to his brother’s while panting harshly.

“I don’t… I can’t… Sam, I need,” he stutters, moving his hips so that his cock is pressing against Sam’s thigh. “I’m sorry, I need…”

“It’s okay,” Sam says calmly, lifting him in his arms. “We’re mate mates, Dean, it’s okay.”

Sam drops Dean on the bed as delicately as his can. Dean moans at the loss of skin contact and turns on his belly, humping the bed.

“You, huh… You like girls, Sammy, it’s… you don’t have to do this.”

“Dean, I know everything must be very confusing right now, but trust me, we are mates,” Sam explains, taking off his clothes. “Can’t you smell it? Fuck, I can’t even think right now.”

“You gotta help me, man,” Dean blurts out like he hasn’t heard Sam. “It hurts, I need…”

Sam is on the bed, lowering Dean’s boxers, salivating as he sees the wetness that taints his thighs and ass cheeks. He bends down, licks a long stripe on Dean’s lower back, then parts the firm white globes of his ass to reveal his hole, already red and swollen, glistening with lubricating fluid.

“Jesus,” Sam murmurs, seeing how tiny it is, how perfect for him to use, and the mere thought of his knot breaking into the rim makes his dick jump. He presses the base, hard, fearing his knot is going to pop before he has the chance to use it properly.

Taking the edge off. That’s what Dean needs right now. He’s too far gone. Sam doesn’t hesitate and shoves two fingers inside his hole, growling as he feels the absence of resistance. Dean’s inside welcoming him, rippling around him.

Dean yells when Sam finds his prostate and gives a violent jerk of his hips.

“It’s okay, Dean,” Sam coaxes. “Let go, I want you to let go, alright?”

“Sam…” Dean pleads, humping the mattress. “I can’t-“

Sam pushes hard, pressing Dean’s sweet spot again and again. It’s a matter of seconds before Dean lets out a long, drawn-out moan and starts shaking, pressing himself against the mattress as hard as he can. The smell of his semen fills the room, and Sam feels drunk on it. He slowly withdraws his fingers and licks them thoroughly, rubbing soothing circles on Dean’s lower back with his other hand all the while. 

It takes Dean a minute before he slowly turns on onto his back, his cock still half-hard, his eyes avoiding Sam’s. He’s still panting, but the need in his smell is a little less intense, if barely.

“Why did you do that?” He asks.

“You… you think I only did it ‘cause you needed the release?” Sam gets on all four and walks over to Dean until he can let his head rest on his brother’s forehead. Dean doesn’t fight, but doesn’t look at him either.

“Dean. I wouldn’t have done anything to you if I had the slightest doubt about us being mates. Can’t you smell it? Can’t you see how hard I am for you?”

“I…” Dean shakes his head. “I can’t make sense of anything right now Sammy, it’s too hard, it’s too intense.”

“Your first real heat, Dean, it’s okay to be confused.” Sam presses a soft kiss on Dean’s parted lips. “Only true mates react the way we are to each other’s scent. You want it, don’t you?”

Dean closes his eyes, hard. A tear gets caught on his eyelashes. 

“Dean, look at me,” Sam commands.

Dean’s eyes snap open. They are wet, a haze of uncertainty covering them. 

“I love you,” Sam says in a convinced convincing, firm tone. “I should’ve known sooner, that we were meant to be with each other, but the pills you took made it hard difficult to be sure. What about you? I wanna know what you feel.”

“It… “Dean sighs and swallows back a sob. “ ’s always been you, Sammy. Always.”

Sam can’t resist anymore. He presses his lips over Dean’s and shoves his tongue deep in his mouth, feeling his brother surrender completely, opening, in every sense of the word, until they’re both exploring each other’s body, licking and biting, Sam groaning, moaning at how good and right it feels to care for his mate, Dean still trying to hold back, soft whimpers getting caught in his throat.

There is nothing more Sam would like than to knot him like that, while they are face to face, drinking the desire from each other’s eyes, but he doesn’t know how long they will stay attached to each other. He wants to make Dean feel good until he’s half-crazy with it, wants to make him come so hard he’ll faint on his knot.

When he asks Dean to turn on his stomach, his brother complies immediately, his shoulders resting against the mattress, presenting his hole to Sam like it’s meant to be.

Sam sighs, then gets behind him. They fuck hard and fast, Dean coming as soon as Sam’s inside, then once more when Sam’s knot begins to swell, tugging at his insides until they’re attached to each other.

Like they should. Like it’s the only way for either of them to find love and contentment.

::: :::

Sam realizes something is wrong with Dean at around five pm that afternoon, just after they finish another round. They’re laying side to side, Dean being the little spoon and moaning like a wounded animal as Sam licks the claiming mark he just made on the back of his neck.

Sam’s knot deflates quicker this time. Dean’s breath, shallow and fast, slowly goes back to normal. Sam doesn’t know if he’s really falling asleep or drifting off, drunk on pleasure, when something in his brother’s scent changes. 

“Sam,” Dean grunts. “Sam, I feel weird.”

The scent is getting more and more intense, until the want and need it had been spreading shifts into hurt and pain. Sam slides out of Dean with as much caution as he can, dragging a whimper out of him as his knot passes the last ring of muscles. 

Sam sits up abruptly and pulls Dean on onto his back so he can look at him. Dean’s face is red, his eyelids swollen. He tries to keep his eyes open but they keep rolling off in their socket.

“Dean, hey?” He shakes him softly.

Dean grunts, remaining lax and way too immobile for Sam’s liking. “S’ hot,” he grumbles in a slurry voice.

Touching Dean’s forehead, Sam tries to guess if the hotness he feels is only a consequence of their intense mating session, or if his brother might actually have a fever. He’s about to go fetch a thermometer when Dean starts shaking, his teeth chattering. He opens his mouth to say something, but instead he turns his head to the side and starts puking. Sam turns him on his side while he grabs his cell phone on the bedside table.

They need an ambulance. It’s Heatstroke Syndrome. Sam is sure of it.

::: :::

There is a wing at the local hospital reserved for sick omegas and their mates. This is where Dean is admitted, after an hour spent in the emergency room, getting a drip installed in his left hand and being prodded everywhere by the omega specialist. A nurse had taken a sample of blood and they had rushed Dean in the omega wing to avoid problems with other alpha patients in the ER. The specialist, Dr. Gideon, is practically sure they’re dealing with Heatstroke Syndrome and doesn’t want to take any risks, after hearing how Dean has been on suppressants for more than ten years. 

The room is quiet and big, the curtains to the windows are drawn, and the hospital bed where Dean is settled is large enough to accommodate Sam. It’s always delicate to admit omegas in heat: they tend to get worse, no matter what they have been hospitalized for, if their alphas aren’t present. That’s the reason the omega department has been opened, a nurse explains to Sam while taking Dean’s temperature. It’s not the best for intimacy, since all the doors of the rooms are glass doors, but it allows the alpha’s presence twenty-four seven. 

Sam nods, still high on the adrenaline that runs in his veins upon seeing his brother, his mate, so pale and unresponsive. Dean is barely conscious and he's suffering from a high fever. There is a cocktail of hormones that can be administered in case of Heatstroke, but they won’t know the exact dosage Dean needs to receive until the results of the blood test come back. In the meantime, he’s been given a rehydrating solution, acetaminophen for the pain, and a light sedative to tone done his biological outburst. 

“Don’t worry, Mr. Winchester,” the nurse tells him. “Heatstroke Syndrome is easily treatable. We should have the results in less than an hour.”

As soon as the nurse is out, Dean grunts, trying to open his eyes. Sam is by his side in an instant, grabbing his hand.

“Dean, you okay? Don’t worry, we’re at the hospital we-“

“I know,” Dean says slowly, looking at Sam with a sliver of green showing in his swollen eyes. “Fuck, what did they gave me, m’so damn tired.”

“It’s okay, you need to rest.”

“Well, give it to me, then.”

For a moment, Sam thinks Dean is talking about sex. “Whu-What?”

“Lemme hear it: I told you so, Dean, you shouldn’t have stopped the meds before seeing a doctor.”

Sam smiles despite of himself. This is so… Dean-like.

“I told you so,” he repeats obediently. “Because I can’t stand seeing you like this, and you scared the hell out of me.”

Dean licks his lips slowly and shrugs. “So, huh, apparently, you won’t be rid of me any time soon, us being mates and all.”

“Even before I figured out you were my mate, I never wanted you to be away from me,” Sam states. “Dean, you have to stop thinking that way, the way Dad wanted you to. Omegas are as precious as betas and alphas, and I fucking love you, man. So much. Can’t wait for you to get better so that we can talk about the kind of life we want, make projects together. It feels so right.”

“Love you too,” Dean drawls out, his eyes already closing. He smiles, the same kind of smile he does when he’s drunk. “Dude, can you believe m’still hard?”

Sam can see it, the way the sheets tent over Dean’s crotch. He burst out laughing. After a while, Dean does too, even with his eyes closed.

“M’gonna sleep now,” Dean announces, as if it’s somewhat surprising. “’n you don’t go anywhere ‘cause you’re my mate and I want you to stay.”

“Good enough for me,” Sam murmurs, kissing Dean’s clammy forehead. 

Maybe it’s the sedative and the heat, making Dean so open and sincere suddenly. Sam only wishes that with time, it will become the normal way to act for him. 

::: :::

Two days later, Dean is definitely doing better, enough to plead for Sam to knot him right there and then, in his hospital bed. Sam can’t resist. He knows mating is allowed in the omega hospital wing –hell, Dr. Gideon had told them not to hold back if Dean needed this when he visited that afternoon, because it’s part of Dean’s recovery.

Sam takes one last look at the glass door, then slides under the covers. “Come on, big guy, give it to me,” Dean murmurs as they grab at each other under in the shelter of the sheets.

Sam can’t help but laugh: “You are terrible at dirty talk.”

Dean doesn’t answer, just grabs Sam’s dick with both hands, his fingers playing with the length expertly. Sam grunts.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Dean smirks.

They take their time. Dean is still weak, so Sam doesn’t want to stress him unduly. He doesn’t tease, and penetrates him from behind while they’re both lying on their side. Dean gets restless, moaning and moving his hips, trying to urge Sam deeper.

“Hey,” Sam whispers, kissing the healing mark on his neck. “Let me take care of it. I’ll get you there.”

Dean relaxes immediately. It’s incredibly hot, how his omega nature reacts to Sam’s alpha one. Sam makes love to his brother almost reverentially, letting out soft words of praise and encouragement. Dean comes way too soon for Sam’s liking, even before his knot had started growing. Sam doesn’t care. He softly pushes his knot inside, teasing Dean’s rim, and once he’s deeply connected with his brother and has started coming as well, he makes a point of caressing Dean’s cock back to hardness.

“Sam, I can’t,” Dean whispers, although he’s already pushing into the circle of Sam’s fingers.

“Want me to stop, then?”

Dean groans. “I… fuck no.”

Sam smiles and keeps on licking his mark on Dean’s neck. His brother’s cock is now hard and hot, already wet with precome at the tip. It takes some time, but when he comes for the second time, it’s all worth it; hearing him moan with abandon, murmuring obscenities while his hole clenches hard, so deliciously tight around Sam’s knot.

They stay quiet for a while. Sam is almost persuaded that his brother is sleeping when he hears him clear his throat. “So huh… What now?”

“What do you mean?”

“It feels good, Sam –hell, it feels fantastic, this whole mating thing and huh… I can work with it, you know? Us being mated. But I…”

“What?”

“Man, I might be an omega, but that doesn’t mean I’ll stay home cooking your dinner while you’re out working, or studying, whatever…”

The very thought of Dean spending his days wearing an apron, cooking meals and baking, and cleaning the house has Sam laughing out loud. It’s hilarious. He just can’t stop, even when Dean slaps him from behind, hitting him on the shoulder.

“Stop laughing, you asshole!” He protests, trying to sound angry but failing.

“Just… Dean, it’s time you realize that I’m in love with you, not your freaking omega status,” Sam explains between giggles. “I mean, what? This isn’t the fifties. The day you’ll tell me you want to stay home and keep our little house clean, I’ll know the world is definitely ending.”

“Okay, okay, that was stupid,” Dean agrees. “Hey, all this is new to me. Plus, I only ever had Dad’s twisted way of thinking as an example.”

At the mention of their father, Sam goes back to being serious. There is sadness in Dean’s voice, in his scent. Sam hugs him tighter against his chest.

“Dad lost his true mate in the most horrible way,” he says in a soothing voice. “Sometimes, losing one’s mate can make you crazy. Literally. Mom was an omega, Dean, so he must have had very different ideas about it before a demon came and took her away from us. Try to remember this. I know you’re still angry, and you have every right to be –I am too, trust me, but maybe, if we remember how much he loved Mom, we can start to understand him a little better.”

Dean sighs. “I… can’t. Not for now anyway. I’m right here with you, literally tied to you, and I have to fight it, ya’ know? The shame of having succumbed to my omega needs. There is nothing to be ashamed of, I know, but I can still hear Dad’s voice in my head.”

“You should sleep,” Sam says, rubbing soothing circles on Dean’s stomach. You’re still sick, try not to think too hard and rest.”

“Yeah…” Dean trails off, sounding unconvinced. Nevertheless, he’s asleep less than five minutes later. Sam stays in the bed with him, even when the night nurse comes in to change Dean’s IV bag and take his vitals.

::: :::

Dean spends four days in the hospital. Most of his heat has passed when Dr. Gideon comes to see him and Sam that morning to tell them he’s free to go home. According to him, the Heatstroke was, of course, caused by the abuse of suppressants over the course of twelve years, but further exams show that it hasn't caused any permanent damage. Dean’s heats might be irregular for the upcoming year, but then it should settle down nicely. 

“You were lucky,” the doctor tells Dean, who blushes and scratches the back of his head. “So for now, I’d suggest you don’t take anything that could mess with the chemistry of your body, which means not even contraceptive pills. Condoms for alphas have improved greatly over the course of the past ten years, so there’s a safe alternative right there.”

In the car, on their way back to their apartment, Dean frowns suddenly while he stops at a red light.

“Ya know, those alpha condoms,” he tells Sam. “You… We haven’t been using them.”

Sam shrugs. He’s not worried. “What are the odds, really? Your hormones were unbalanced, and it is a proven scientific fact that conception is harder to achieve for omega males than females.”

“…Right.”

“The light is green, Dean.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

Dean remains silent for the rest of the drive. 

They get out of the car under a bright and warm sun. Sam makes a gesture to take Dean’s arm, but is immediately pushed away. “Dude, I’m fine.”

“Sorry,” Sam smiles. “I guess we’re going to need some time to adapt.”

He’s walking back to the car to get Dean’s bag out of the backseat when he hears a whistle nearby. He turns his head just in time to see a large and tall man in his early twenties walking toward Dean. It’s an alpha.

“Hey, pretty,” the guy says, and Sam feels it, from the marrow of his bones, the anger and possessiveness. Dean’s heat smell isn’t completely gone.

Fuck, Sam can talk about how Dean need to adjust his view on alpha/omega relationships, but he’s new to this as well, and it upsets him, feeling so close to losing control. He wants to jump the guy, he want to put him down, kick him and make him apologize, he wants to-

“What did you say to me?” Dean asks, not moving an inch despite the knot head looming over him.

“You need someone filling your hole, baby?” The jerk replies.

Sam sees red. He didn’t even know this could happen other than figuratively, but before he takes another step, something happens so suddenly that Sam himself is surprised.

Dean punches the guy, right on the nose, and the alpha, whom visibly wasn’t ready for the hit, steps backward in a ridiculous little dance and falls flat on his ass.

“Everything okay, there, Dean?” Sam asks, trying not to smile too much.

“It’s fine, Sam, really,” Dean replies easily. “You wanna have your turn at this fucking giant douche?”

And just like that, Sam’s doubts about Dean accepting himself as who he is disappear. He beams proudly, like one of those alpha douches.

::: :::

Summer is finally there. Sam has gotten permission to retake the exams he missed while being with Dean at the hospital. With those behind him now, he can breathe a little easier. He works at the bookstore, Dean at the garage: there haven’t been a lot of changes in their relationship since Dean’s heat, probably because they were already acting as mates, he thinks back.

That is, of course, without counting the awesome sex.

Dean finds a job a couple of towns away the second week of June, and despite Sam’s almost painful need to go with him, he doesn’t offer. It’s Dean’s first hunt since their father’s death and his heat. Sam doesn’t want him to feel threatened, like somehow he couldn’t be trusted now, as if giving in to his omega nature would make him a less efficient hunter. Still, the alpha in Sam is worried out of his mind, as he sees Dean getting his gear in the car, and he wants to hold onto him when his brother grabs his ass and kisses him on the mouth.

Dean comes back three days later, tired and sore but content. He got rid of the vengeful spirit, burned the bones, and made sure no one got hurt. Sam can see how important this hunt was for him, how relaxed and happy he seems. Sam is too. Life is good.

::: :::

July is hot, even according to California Standard. Sam has come to like working his shift at the bookstore, where the air conditioning is way more efficient than the one in their small apartment. Dean is restless and grumpy. There isn’t much work for him at the garage, and he hates feeling confined at home. Jessica, Zach and Lewis take him with them to the beach one day, but Dean comes back with sunburns and the proclamation that beaches sucks, that he has sand up to his ass crack and that he must have at least a hundred of new freckles on his face alone. 

Sam won’t complain about that, though. He thinks Dean’s grumpiness might have to do with the fact that his next heat must be close. He’s hyper aware of any small changes in his brother’s scent, but so far, nothing. Except… Well, Sam can’t exactly pinpoint it. Dean’s smell might be a tad different than usual but it’s… Indescribable, like Sam doesn’t have what it takes to identify it. He doesn’t think too much of it. They both still have a lot to learn, after all. Being an alpha doesn’t give you a step by step guide to omega’s different smells and behaviors. 

Sam remains slightly confused, until he comes back from work one day to find Dean in their living room, stripped down to his boxers, staring intently at two white sticks sitting on the coffee table.

“What’s up?” Sam grabs a beer in the fridge and asks Dean if he wants one.

“Huh… no, I… no, thanks,” Dean states in a somewhat dreamy voice.

Sam starts babbling about his day while unscrewing the cap, then taking his t-shirt off. He needs a cold shower, then he's thinking about taking Dean out for dinner, a nice place with an efficient air conditioner.

“Sam?” Dean interrupts him.

“Yeah?”

“Remember when we talked about prophylactics and contraceptives, right after my first heat?”

“Yeah.”

“And… you know, how we kind of dismissed the fact that we hadn’t used any when we mated?”

Maybe it’s the tiredness, but Sam has no idea what Dean’s talking about. He stares at him, frowning. “…yeah.”

“And then you told me, ‘even if you were pregnant, Dean, it’s no big deal: after all, I’m your alpha, I’m going to give up school and work to make a living for you and my kid?’”

“I don’t remember that,” Sam says slowly, walking the few steps that separate him from Dean.

“Huh, strange…” Dean says in a sarcastic tone. “Well, maybe I got it wrong, maybe I just spent the damn afternoon telling myself that this is what you were gonna say.”

With this, Dean grabs the two white sticks on the coffee table and shoves them under Sam’s nose. 

Oh.

It’s like a light bulb finally flares up in Sam’s head. He takes the plastic sticks in his hands –well, the pregnancy tests- looks at the two little plus signs.

He should be panicking, he thinks dully, but all of sudden, pride swells in his chest. He did this. He impregnated his brother. He pumped him full of come and now he’s going to be full with a child. Sam’s child.

Whoa. The alpha in Sam is roaring, not caring about how primitive his reaction is. 

“You’re smiling, you fucker!” Dean says, standing up quickly and pointing his finger at Sam. “You… you got me pregnant on my first freaking heat and you think it’s _funny?_ ”

“No,” Sam replies immediately. “No, I don’t.”

“What are we gonna do, Sam? I don’t have a real job, you’re not done with college, how are we gonna pay for a kid? You’re twenty-two years old, you’re a kid yourself!”

Dean grabs his hair with both hands and start pacing. Sam… Sam might still be in a state of shock. He needs to come up with something, something reassuring that will show Dean that he has it under control, that he’s going to care for everything.

“So, you wanna keep it?” Is what comes out of his mouth, strangely enough.

Dean casts him a killer glare. “Well, it’s… M’not gonna get an abortion. I can’t, damn it! It doesn’t make sense. It’s this whole omega thing that’s growing on me and I can’t… You know what? What my first reaction was after I peed on those sticks and saw the little plus signs?”

“What?”

“I was kind of happy,” Dean spits as if it was the worst thing to ever happen to him.

“Well, how is that a bad thing?”

Dean stops pacing all of sudden. He tilts his head to the side, staring at Sam. “You’re not mad? Or, I don’t know, upset, at least?”

“I’m huh… I’m surprised,” Sam tries to be as honest as possible.

“But you… you had this whole career plan, and law school and… I imposed myself to you, and now we’re mated and we’re gonna have a kid, and how is that supposed to fit?”

“Dean.” Sam puts the tests back on the coffee table and grabs his brother’s shoulders. “The plan has been you ever since I realized we were mates. It’s all I want. As for the rest, we’ll manage. I mean, it’s not the ideal situation for starting a family, but like you said, we made a baby together and… I’m kind of proud, ya’ know, and excited.”

“Excited?” Dean asks, his face turning to an adorable shade of pink.

“Well, _we made a baby_ ,” Sam repeats. “You are bearing my child. We mated once and we did that, and it’s kind of amazing, isn’t it?”

Sam lowers his hand to let it rest on Dean’s stomach. Dean’s already pink face gets redder by the second, but at least he doesn’t push him away. 

“How did you know?” He asks.

“I was feeling a bit under the weather,” Dean explains. “Always tired and kind of nauseous sometimes, like just the smell of anything spicy makes me want to puke. But also there was this feeling in my guts. I huh… don’t know, really. Found myself in a drugstore looking at pregnancy tests. Call it instinct.”

Sam takes Dean’s hand and walks with him to the couch, making him sit before he does the same. 

“Okay, so, first thing would be to get an appointment at the family planning clinic. We mated at the beginning of May, so it means you should be around what? Ten weeks already?”

“Yeah,” Dean says, laughing nervously. “I think I actually show a little bit.”

Sam looks at Dean’s stomach again but can’t see anything, probably because of the way Dean is sitting. “Ten weeks. We better get an appointment as quick as possible, just to be sure everything is okay.”

“And then what, Sam? How are we gonna pay for this kid? We barely make enough money to get through each month and… We can’t even stay here, it’s too small, and what about-“

Sam shuts Dean up with a kiss. The feeling of knowing his child is growing as they speak, right there in his mate’s belly, is intense and wonderful. He feels the need to comfort Dean, to let him know everything will be okay. When Dean’s mouth opens to him, his hot breath coming out to mix with his own, he knows he’s succeeded.

“We’ll manage. We’re Winchesters, right?” Sam whispers when they break apart.

“So what? We’re going to have a little dude running around soon?” Dean asks.

“Yeah. Well… It could be a girl.”

“Jesus, Sam what are we going to do with a girl?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s not that different from a boy. It poops and pees and feeds and poops again.”

Dean rolls his eyes, but there is a softness in them. And just like that, Sam knows they’ll be alright.

 

PART II

_Overland Park, Kansas, December 1st_

The cold wind hits Sam in the face as he exits the massive Humanity building of Edwards Campus. It’s three in the afternoon, and the air smells heavily of snow, although it probably won’t fall. The clouds are moving too fast in the grey sky. 

Wrapping his coat tighter around himself, Sam lowers his head and takes the path that leads to the Family Quarters, through a small wooded area. He carries a bag heavy with thesis copies to read and correct over the weekend. His job as an assistant researcher for Professor Spiegel, the Head of the Status Psychological Development Research Chair, isn’t easy and it’s time consuming, but it pays well. Sam can take a couple of classes, not full time, but as long as he has a job, he can wait to complete his psychology degree. 

The Campus is a great environment for mates and young families. When Sam and Dean had started to consider their options, a couple of colleges offered Family Quarters, one in New Mexico, and one in Kansas. They both wanted to get closer to their hometown, so Edwards College it was. The Family Quarters is composed of small houses, just big enough to accommodate a family of four, and a couple of apartment buildings for couples. There is a drugstore and convenience shop, as well as a grocery store. It was built as a pilot project by the Status Research Chair to accommodate mating needs with studying. Sam had applied for the Psychology Degree as well as the Family Quarters. His grades had granted him with a partial scholarship that he could complete if he found a job; being an assistant researcher had been an opportunity he couldn’t pass up, although the rent Dean and he are paying for the house is very cheap, being funded by the pilot project.

They couldn’t have found a better place to raise kids. Dean had even found work when they’d first moved in as a delivery guy for the grocery store. He would’ve kept going if he hadn’t gone into premature labor, a month ago.

Now, Dean is restricted to bed. With another month to go before his due date, he’s about to go crazy, and he's dragging Sam along with him. He actually doesn’t look forward that much to coming home and listening to Dean bitch about every single thing that makes his life miserable. Sam gets it, he does. True, he’s not the one who’s only allowed to get out of bed to eat –no more than half an hour at a time- and go to the bathroom –he’s not, but he gets it to some level at least. His omega being miserable means he feels miserable, sometimes downright physically sick at not being able to make him better.

Only one month to go, Sam repeats himself, heading toward the only street of the family quarters. Their house is the second on the left, similar to the others, except for the shiny muscle car parked in the alley –because yes, now that Dean can’t take care of his “baby,” he’s forcing Sam to do it in the same maniacal way.

“I’m home,” Sam announces, closing the door behind him. As usual, the first floor of the house looks almost uninhabited, too clean. Both the bedrooms are upstairs and, luckily, there is a small bathroom there as well. The living room’s TV has been transferred into the main bedroom. The only space that seems somewhat used is the kitchen, and even then, well, more often than not, Sam doesn’t cook a lot. It’s never been one of his talents. He makes sure Dean gets vegetables and meat, all the vitamins he needs, but he’ll buy ready-to-heat meals at the organic grocery store on the other side of the campus. It’s not cheap, but it doesn’t matter. Dean has to eat well.

“Dean?” Sam calls again, getting rid of his shoes and jacket. He takes the stairs and head straight to the bedroom, pushing the door softly. The TV is on, playing an old western movie with Clint Eastwood. Dean is asleep, half-sitting, his back propped up by pillows, over the comforter, his head tilt to the side. He wears his overused paternity jeans and a t-shirt that’s so stretched over his belly Sam can see through it. Dean always insists to get dressed in the morning, just like he insists that the bed get made so he can settle on top of the comforter. He says it’s better this way. Come night time, he doesn’t have the impression that he’s actually been in bed all day. “It’s psychological, dude,” he’d told Sam. 

Sam tiptoes to the TV and shuts it off. Dean makes a soft sound, half a sigh, half a whimper, and immediately, Sam feels guilty for thinking that he wasn’t so eager to come home. The truth is, he’s not sure he could have made it, if it had been him. They both had been scared as hell when Dean started having contractions one month ago. Dean, of course, had been blaming himself for insisting that he could work, even as he was hitting the seventh month of his pregnancy. Nothing Sam or the doctors had said could make him change his mind. 

They were lucky the labor could be stopped. And afterward, Dean had swallowed his pride and swore he would do everything their androcologist had told him, even if it meant spending all his days alone lying in bed. They haven’t had time to make a lot of friends since their arrival. Sure, Dean can spend time chatting on the phone with Jess, or Mike, but it’s not the same thing. Far from it.

As silently as he can, Sam gets on the bed to lie down next to Dean, putting his hand over the impressive swell of his belly. It’s not long before he feels a kick under his palm, and judging by the position, high over Dean’s jutted-out navel, it must be their little boy. 

Sam smiles, then realizes his brother is looking at him through heavy-lidded eyes. “Hey,” he says, voice a bit gruff. “Don’t go get them all excited, they were quiet.”

“Right, sorry,” Sam answers, but he keeps his hand right on the same spot. “How are you feeling?” He adds more seriously, seeing the red spots on Dean’s cheek and the dark circles under his eyes.

“Not bad,” Dean shrugs, dragging himself up to sit straighter and letting out a “oof” at the same time. “I’m hungry. Tried to eat toast for lunch, but had too much acid reflux.”

“I was thinking we could order in… maybe Chinese?”

“Awww, man, don’t tempt me with Chinese.” Dean licks his lips. “Too much salt. I’m already stuck with two tree trunks instead of legs. Pizza?”

“Again?”

“Hey, I’m the pregnant-with-twins-restricted to bed guy, here.”

“True,” Sam angles his head so that he could kiss him, feeling Dean’s baby bump pressing against his own, flat stomach. “Right now or do you want to wait?”

“Do I look like I want to wait?” Dean joked.

“I’ll get the menus.”

“You better.”

::: :::

Seeing how long it takes Dean to get himself out of bed and walk downstairs, Sam wonders if he could do much anyway, if he wasn’t restricted to their bedroom. So far, Dean has put on thirty-five pounds, which isn’t that much considering he’s carrying twins. He doesn’t even look like he’s put on any weight at all –his face might be a little rounder, but that’s all.  
His belly, though, is downright impressive; round and firm and jutting out so much it doesn’t even look real, like somehow, Dean is walking around with a basketball under his shirt. It makes his stance unsure, clumsy, as his balance center has shifted so much. His normal bowlegged stance is only exaggerated to a point where he looks like he’s just got off a horse after a long ride. Not that Sam would ever say it out loud. Dean’s been very self-conscious with this whole pregnancy thing, as his body rapidly transformed. Sam thinks he’s beautiful, looking so full, a softness added to his curves that’s only enhanced by his wide eyes and long lashes, the more delicate features of his face. Omega men have this distinction of sometimes looking almost androgynous, but Dean’s butch and manly mannerisms, encouraged for so many years by John’s attitude, had always prevailed.

Until now. Sam would touch his brother all the time, if Dean allowed it. He never though Dean could be more beautiful than he already was. He was wrong. He doesn’t mind Dean brushing off the compliments and putting up a brave, “whatever” façade. Realizing that his first heat had gotten him pregnant, not with one but two babies, has been a shock he’s still trying to recover from. Sam thinks he’s handling it pretty well, considering.

He helps Dean settle down at the table where the pizza waits. Instead of snatching a piece and shoving half of it in his mouth, as usual, Dean takes his time, putting it down on his plate and wiggling on his chair almost constantly.

“Not hungry anymore?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, just… takes me some time to feel comfortable, sitting,” Dean explains, wincing as he tries to stretch his back, his movement stopped by his belly pushing against the table. “I’m gigantic,” he sighs.

“No. You’re-“

“I swear to god, Sam, if you say gorgeous, I’mma kick your ass.”

“But you are.”

“Shut up.”

They eat in silence for a few minutes. Sam thinks about the nursery upstairs, still going through everything they've bought and wondering if there is something essential they’d forgotten. Dean and he had done most of the shopping together, Sam going on and on with lists made from books and website. He knows if he takes out another piece of paper to recheck everything again, Dean is going to kill him –given his state right now, maybe literally.

“Oh, shit,” Dean groans, dropping his pizza piece on his plate. 

He winces and stretches backward, looking down at his stomach where a large bump is currently moving, rippling under the skin and pushing to the right. 

“Jesus,” Sam says in an awed voice, always impressed to actually see the babies moving. “Is it Leo?”

“Well, it’s high, so I guess…” Dean holds his breath and grits his teeth. The small bump disappears and his belly goes back to its round, regular shape. “Yeah, definitely Leo.”

The twins are positioned one over the other, their daughter, Mia, being lower, already in birth position. Leo is still on his side, according to the last echography. He might not move until the birth. It’s all a question of timing, according to their obstetrician, Dr. Lang. When the labor begins, Mia will engage in the birth canal, and Leo might take the new free space to turn. That’s the best scenario. Dean is scared as hell of having to go through a C-section: they’ve been offered to have it as the get-go procedure, scheduling it, given the chances that it will end up this way, but after a long talk, they had decided against it. Dean’s omega nature has shown more and more as the pregnancy progressed, and the C-section meant he would take more time to recover and not be as fully functional to take care of the kids as soon as he’d wanted to. Nothing Sam says or does changes a thing: when the babies are concerned, Dean follows his instinct.

To be honest, they do have a fair chance of Dean going through a completely natural birth. Sam thinks about it a lot, his brother going through the pains of labor and delivery, and he can only hope it will go as smoothly as possible.

Something else seems to be bothering Dean tonight, though, because he barely eats his pizza slice, even though he finishes the meal with a glass of milk. He’s not in a bad mood, just seems very thoughtful. 

After they finish eating, Sam sends him back upstairs while he cleans the kitchen. He then goes upstairs himself to gather their dirty clothes, thinking he could do some laundry, and finds their bedroom empty. Dean is in the nursery, sitting in the large rocking chair they had put between the two cribs. He had bought wood letters and fixed them over each one, spelling the name of the babies. Thinking about their constant fight to pick up the names makes Sam smile despite himself. Both were so stuck on their position that in the end, they had established a complicated strategy. Sam would pick his three favorite girl names, Dean would do the same for boy names, then the other one would have to choose from the list, no veto allowed. In the end, it turned out well. Leo and Mia are simple, strong names. It’s easier for Sam to actually picture them now that they are more than just baby girl and baby boy.

Sam turns his attention back to his mate. He seems a little lost, alone in the dark like this. Sam turns the light on.

“Dean? You should go back to bed.”

“I know,” Dean says without moving. “Give me five minutes.”

“Alright.”

Sam is about to turn back on his heels when Dean adds. “What would he think of all this?”

“Whom?”

“Dad.”

_Oh_. Sam tries to figure out what is the best way to answer to this is. Dean has never really made his peace with their father’s death, which is understandable, given the circumstances and how John had rejected him the last time they saw each other. Sam is still angry at John too, for different reasons. He’s angry because his father is responsible for Dean's emotional distress. He’s angry because he doesn’t think him and Dean being mates, starting a family, would have changed a thing.

“I don’t know, Dean,” he answers slowly. “But Mom would be so proud of you.”

Dean snorts with derision and brushes his hand over his face, wiping the tears that are slowly falling. Sam aches to take him in his arms and comfort him, but he knows Dean sometimes needs his personal space, so he waits.

“I’ll never put our kids through this, you understand me?” he says in an angry voice. “Not only… the damn difference between status, but the Hunt, the way we were raised. Never.”

“Alright.”

“They’re gonna have a normal life.”

“I’m with you there.”

“Kids should be allowed to be kids.”

“Of course.”

Dean clears his throat. “And… I don’t mind staying home, I don’t care if it makes a me a goddamn omega cliché. I want to be there for them.”

Sam smiles at that and walks the few steps that separate him from his brother. “Trust me, Dean, you’re as far as you can be from any omega cliché.”

Dean lets Sam help him up and they make their way slowly to their bedroom. Dean is so tired that he gives in and let Sam undress him and put him in his pajamas without groaning too much. “Should’ve taken a shower,” he complains, yawning.

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Are you going all alpha on me?” Dean asks, smiling, while Sam opens the bed.

“Well, I _am_ an alpha after all.”

“As far as one can be from any alpha cliché,” Dean points out, lying down.

It’s a compliment, something that makes Sam feels all warm and fuzzy inside. Right. He’s such a girl, like Dean would point out. Or maybe he’s just the person Dean needs, status be damned. Studying classes in his psychology degree has taught Sam that there is still so much progress to make, as a society. And maybe Dean and he are doing just that. Making progress.

::: :::

Dean goes into labor on New Year’s eve. They’re in their bed until late morning, watching Australia’s New Year celebration while Sam massages Dean’s swollen feet. Dean complains that he’ll stay pregnant forever because that’s just how the universe likes to mess up with him, when it starts. They’re both ready, timing the contractions that come every fifteen minutes and are uncomfortable, but not too much according to Dean. They stay in bed, take notes and giggle, both nervous but trying to work around it. They call the hospital and are told what they already know. Dean has to lie down on his left side and try to stay relax. Since he’s having twins, the nurse doesn’t want him to wait too long before coming to the hospital, so they give themselves a couple of hours, then grab the bags and get ready. Sam is a bit sentimental. He holds the door open and take one last look at the house, sighing.

“Can you believe that next time we’ll come home, we’ll-“

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll be four and it will be amazing and it’s surreal,” Dean replies, dragging himself down the porch steps, waddling more than actually walking. 

“Way to break the moment.”

“Dude, you’ve been saying this kind of stuff constantly since the beginning. Aow.”

Dean stops, winces, but pushes Sam away when he goes to support him. “Hands off. It’s uncomfortable, I’m not dying.”

“O-kay…”

Dean is actually bragging in the car about how this whole labor pain is probably overrated, or maybe he’s just tough, right? It makes sense that, after years of training and hunting, he’s not like most people.

Sam isn’t an idiot, so he just nods wisely, thinking about those birth videos he watched on the internet, in secret –men and women alike, suffering through what had seemed like an ordeal when they had refused the pain medication or the epidural. Actually, women seemed to hold their own a tad more than men.

“I’m actually looking forward to this, to finally see those two little brats,” Dean keeps on smiling, his fingers beating a rhythm on the dashboard.

Sam supposed that this is better than full-on panicking. For now.

::: :::

Until now, Sam had never seen an omega reduce an alpha male to tears. True, the alpha is a young nurse assisting to his first birth and the omega in question is Dean Winchester, who’s refused the epidural because according to their stupid prenatal class, letting your body work naturally is the best way to take part in the birthing process and keep control over your body –hey, it’s the new thing, and now Sam is damning this teacher who, by the way, was way past her fifties and had never given birth because sadly, she had to have a C-section. Frustrated, that’s what she was, and clearly evil, wanting the whole class to suffer through what she could never have.

When the pain had started to become more than “a little uncomfortable,” seven hours into the labor and only six centimeters of dilatation, Dean had apparently decided that the best way to deal with it wasn’t breathing exercises or freaking “letting his body work,” but to make everyone around him pay for it. Sam included. He can take it. Their doctor, a petite beta woman that seems to be the poster child for the “unimpressed” expression, she can take it too, as well as the older female nurse that has been with them from the beginning. Not Brad the new nurse. When Dean screams at him that if he ever touches him one more time, he’s going to kick him in his stupid, spotty face, poor Brad’s eyes fills with tears and Dr. Lang tells him to “take five.” Sam wishes he could feel sorry for him, he does, but to Dean’s credit, he’s now going through his tenth hour of labor and Brad had just checked him and announced that there was still two centimeters to go.

Dean is tired. Dean is exhausted. Dean hasn’t had anything to eat since they arrived, and is only allowed to crunch on ice cubes in case he has to have a C-section. If it wasn’t enough, as the pain had become more serious, he's grown more and more nauseous, and it’s a miserable image, seeing his brother throwing up while going through a contraction that seems to rip him apart.

So yeah, he can yell at Sam all he wants. Sam is close to start yelling too. It’s ten o’clock and the nurse has just told them that maybe they could have the first baby of the year and be in the local newspapers. Two more hours of this sounds atrocious, and when Dean, between groans and curses, told her it’s the stupidest thing he’s heard and that she can shove the fucking local newspaper up her ass, Sam is almost tempted to add his voice.

The twins won’t be first and second baby of the year, though, that much is clear when Dean’s uterine entrance is completely dilated, finally, at one in the morning. Before he can start pushing, Dr. Lang does a quick sonogram to verify the position of the twins. “Oh, would you look at that? The little boy has turned,” she says, satisfied. 

Sam is incredibly relieved. If Dean had gone through this entire ordeal to end up going under a C-section for the second baby, Sam would have burst out crying. Right now, he’s seconds away from doing it anyway, everything is so overwhelming. Dean is settled in a seated position, feet in the stirrups; Sam can’t really believe that they are finally there, that the babies are about to be born. Dean is more than ready, though. His hair is plastered on to his head, his face swollen and beet red, his thighs trembling. He urges the nurse to let him push. The shift changing at midnight has given him two fresh nurses to yell at, but neither of them seem to be the least bit bothered by it, and Sam can feel his frustration when the youngest one pats him on the knee and tells him in a sweet voice: “I know you’re tired, honey. Let’s get ready to push, shall we?”

“As far as I know, I’m the only one who’s gonna do the pushing, so you can keep your fucking condescending tone to yourself,” Dean groans. “Oh shit, I need to push. I need to push, can I fucking push now?”

“Yes, remember what we talked about,” Dr. Lang says calmly, already settled on a small bench between Dean’s legs.

Dean pushes, silent and concentrated. Sam coaxes him through it, telling him to keep going, and how proud he is. When Dean finally stops to take a big gulp of air, he looks at him sternly. “You are proud of me?” He snaps. “You fucking bastard, you got me pregnant on my first heat, this is your fault and I hate you, do you understand this? You’re never shoving your monster cock in my ass EVER again!”

Sam blushes bright red. The nurses exchange a smile. Even Dr. Lang seems amused.

Looking at his brother, trying to come back with something to say, Sam sees it suddenly, the fear in Dean’s eyes, the confusion, he can smell it, and damn it, how stupid he is for not having caught it sooner. He’s been patient and let Dean insult him all he wanted because he thought that’s what he needed, but his omega was only trying to get an alpha reaction from him. Dean will never be easy to read, will always have trouble asking for what he needs, and Sam should’ve known by now.

So he bends over Dean like they’re both alone in the room, takes his brother’s face between his hands, looks at him without blinking. “I am proud of you. Hey, look at me,” he adds, when Dean bites his lips and lowers his gaze. “Dean.” He repeats. His mate’s eyes shot up to meet his. “It’s okay, you can do this.”

“Not so sure,” Dean whispers. 

“It’s okay to be scared, it’s okay to be sick and tired. I’m with you, I’m not letting go of you.”

“Shut up,” Dean says in an almost inaudible voice. His eyes are shining bright now, tears ready to spill.

“I’m serious. I love you, I’m proud of you, and you can do this,” Sam repeats.

“Damn it, another one’s coming,” Dean grabs both of Sam’s shoulders.

“Yes that’s it,” Sam says. “Come on, Dean. Hold on to me. Push.”

Dean tightens his hold, his eyes now locked into Sam’s. And he pushes.

::: :::

Sam bends over the incubator in the neonatal unit, filled with awe. Mia and Leo are sharing it: they try not to split twins as much as they can avoid it so soon after their birth. They’re both sleeping, two tiny swollen faces peeking out of the bundle of flannel sheet. It’s hard to tell whom they take after, and they look alike for now. Mia, who was born first, is six and a half pounds. She also has an impressive pair of lungs on her. She started crying immediately after she was born, much to Dean’s relief. Leo had followed ten minutes later. He had to receive a little bit of oxygen to help him for the first five minutes or so, but he’s as healthy as his sister, although smaller by almost one pound.

Mia has a fine covering of dark hair, whereas Leo’s round head is practically bald, except for a few light curls on the top of his head. His ears look like they’re sticking out, where Mia’s are flattened against her head. 

They’re both beautiful.

Since Dean has suffered a few complications and is bedridden, the twins will spend the first twenty-four hours here to give him a chance to rest. The nurse had reassured Sam that he could call and ask for the babies to be brought in Dean’s room for a short period of time if he asks for them.

Sighing, Sam caresses Mia’s cheek, then Leo’s little fist. He can smell his own scent on his children, and it’s reassuring, letting everyone know whom they belong to. Dean’s scent is there too, although not as strong. He barely had had the time to take a look at the twins before he’d started bleeding. Dr. Lang got it quickly under control and Sam had known it could happen: omega males have a tendency to bleed while giving birth, more than females. It was still scary as hell, seeing how pale Dean’s face had gotten so quickly, how red and damp were Dr. Lang’s gloves were as she was working between his legs.

Shivering, Sam cast one last look at the babies and walks out of the neonatal unit.

It’s five in the morning and a cold sun is rising, breaking through the dark skies. Sam yawns and stretches while he walks through the corridors, physically needing to be close to his omega now. 

Dean has a private room. He’s not sleeping, but he’s close. The transfusion bag hanging from a metal rod by the bed is almost empty. Dean has already regained some color, although his eyes are still sunken, his lips pale and chapped. He can’t get out of bed for now, won’t be able to until Dr. Lang reassess the situation later that day. 

Sam is glad the painkillers Dean’s been given afterward are finally working, if the lazy smile on his face is any indication. He’s been so anxious about not being able to go see the babies after they were transferred to the neonatal unit, Sam hadn’t known anymore how to sooth him.

Now, though, he looks better. Seeing Sam put a lighter expression on his face, like they’ve been apart for way more than half an hour.

“They good?” He slurs.

“Yes, they are. No problems. They share this tiny incubator and sleep tucked against each other.” Sam smiles, sitting on side of the bed.

He bends over Dean and kisses him on the lips. Dean protests, “Dude, I can taste my own bad breath.”

“I don’t care. Fuck, Dean, you were amazing.”

He was. Sam tries not to be too emotional but it’s impossible. He’s just become a father. 

“I was awesome,” Dean agrees with his drug-induced drawl. “Seriously, though, I’m sorry for all the bullshit I spat on you. It’s just… my mouth had like a mind on his own.”

Sam smiles. “You were going through hell. Could’ve been worse.”

“But also…” Dean frowns, although he still looks goofy. “I was serious. You’re not touching me for the next ten years. It hurt like hell.”

“…Right. Because you don’t like sex, like… not at all,” Sam jokes.

Dean lifts an eyebrow. “I do love sex,” he complies, like he’s just realized it. “I just don’t feel like pushing two –not one, two!- babies out of my body any time soon.”

“I get it.”

“So really, they’re okay, you’re not fucking with me ‘cause I just lost half of my blood?”

“I’m pretty sure it wasn’t half of it,” Sam smiles and drags a finger along Dean’s cheek, needing the physical contact. “They are fine. I swear. I’m watching over them –and over you, so why don’t you try to get some sleep?”

Dean nods, and for a moment, closes his eyes. The tiredness present on his features disappears. He looks so young in the dim light, and yes –delicate, but strong at the same time. When he reopens his eyes suddenly, Sam feels caught, drinking the sight of his mate. Dean would normally brush it off, telling him to stop doing the doe look. But right now, the painkillers –and probably the endorphins kicking in, are making him mellow and sweet. 

“It’s scary, thinking I could’ve let all of this pass by me,” he whispers.

“What?”

“I was lucky the suppressants didn’t do any lasting damage,” Dean explains, playing with the hem of his sheet. “We have kids, Sam. Our kids. I could’ve… I could’ve missed so many things. Because I spent my life listening to a father that didn’t know what to do with his omega son.”

“But you didn’t miss it,” Sam says in a soothing voice. “We found each other in time.”

Dean snorts. “Speak for yourself. I basically gave up the pills because I was pissed at Dad.”

“Well, if he ever did anything for you, that must be it. Who cares, Dean? You didn’t even had time to get accustomed to heats and your Omega instincts and you were already pregnant. You just, went with it… And it’s so fucking impressive. There is not a day that passes without me thinking how lucky I am. You know what they say, that contrary to popular belief, Alphas aren’t the strongest people in our society. It’s Omegas that truly hold everything together.”

Dean lowers his eyes. He still resists to praise of any kind. Even right now, when he’s definitely allowed to be as emotional as he wants. Sam hopes it still passes through. “I’m serious Dean. You’re so much stronger than me. All that we have right now, it’s because of you. You did all of this.”

“Come on, man,” Dean blushes a little, despite his paleness. “We have what we have because we’re strong, together.”

“Maybe,” Sam admits. 

And maybe, one day, Dean will be free of his insecurities. He’s changed so much since that evening he knocked on Sam’s apartment door, beaten up and ashamed. He now carries a quiet strength that has only grown during his pregnancy, pretty much similarly as his belly had gotten bigger. The important thing is, Sam isn’t worried about the future, about their kids. Dean is by his side. He’s been a caretaker for Sam as long as Sam can remember, and now he has two more human beings to care for, to worry about, to love ferociously. And Sam can only hope that he proves himself worthy of his mate and their family.

FIN


End file.
